Look at me when I’m talking to you.

Holding someone’s presence in your eyes,
their gaze in your hands,
their energy in your heart
as they speak themselves open into you through lungs catching air—
this is sacred.

It is gold that someone would offer to share anything with you at all,
so look at me when I’m talking to you.
I do not wish to see the whites of your eyes
as your gaze wanders from me,
as I am speaking my heart.

Hold me in the darkness of contact,
of connection,
where we refuse to do anything but show up in our bodies for the people who are here,
in the flesh,
speaking into you.

We are communicating:
I will take what is sacred to you and hold it,
so please don’t wander.
Your texts and emails can wait—I promise.
Honour the space that people wish to share with you.

Look at me when I’m talking to you.
Watch me spin words sweet like honey,
stumbling.
Watch me spit truth like fire through passionate breaths,
shaking.
Watch me share what I wish to share
and give me what I am giving to you.

I do not ask that you respond in a way that is easy for me to digest.
I do not ask that you agree with the opinions falling from my mouth like overripe fruit.
I do not ask that you hold me in your arms if I tell you of my fears,
or brush up my feathers with confidence when I tell you of my insecurities
or my starkly unimpressive realities.

I simply ask that you carry this moment like you would a fragile egg—ripe with life.
I ask only that you gift me the power of your attention,
with no f*cks given to your phone
or the shining stars in the room.

Look at me when I’m talking to you—
for that’s when my eyes shine the brightest.

Author: Annabelle Blythe

Image: thatsbreathtaking/Flickr

Editor: Nicole Cameron